Polebridge Mercantile


It's Saturday morning it's snowing, no it's raining...the weather is crappy, hop in the car and drive up the North Fork to Polebridge and get a Huckleberry Bear Claw!
Sounds like a good idea.
 So we did.
 Drove on the gravel road some 30 + miles
past rivers, mountains and little cabins in the woods
nothing like putting a little gravel in your travel.
Sun was shining when we got up there.
 Devoured a few pastries and coffee while chatting with the baker and the owner.
They show us their kitchen
and tell us how much the love the "North Pork" ( a pulled pork sandwich)
we make at the café.

 Life is funny, chef tries to get away from the kitchen and ends up in theirs

Much show and tell about the new solar panels they put up-
pretty neat that the whole place is run on the sun (sorry couldn't help myself) 
they even sells extra power to saloon, only open seasonally.
" The Merc" is a cozy place with the wood stove burning
all kinds of Montana décor- some more useful than the other.
It's rustic, it's simple - just the way we like it.
Good to get out shoot the breeze with your faraway neighbor
 and eat a little huckleberry goodness.


Perfection kills creativity

Have no fear of perfection — you'll never reach it.
~ Salvador Dali

 Perfection kills creativity.

 I have been noticing especially this year 2016 how much perfection is a “bully” how it kill’s joy and creativity in my life, let me explain.
 As a knitter I find some yarn (I go for the yarn first) then find a pattern, I try to pair them up both as best as I can, because I never do anything by the book….then as the sweater progress the angst sets in. I see that this is not perfect. I have knit the body and as the sleeves are coming along it’s either not enough yarn or the yarn I chose doesn’t look as good as I thought it would.

And it becomes another half knit sweater in the half knit grave yard.

Pattern, something I look to for inspiration and also seek perfection- if I only use this lovely pattern it will be perfect. But it doesn’t. It’s no fun when this disappointment strikes again. As a kid I never used patterns and I wore every gosh darn sweater I knit- because I wasn’t seeking perfection I was creating, enjoying that process. And that was the journey not the end goal- perfect.

I tried out baking for some time this fall I even enrolled in a fancy French pastry school online. The pictures looked perfect, I checked my ingredients once, twice three times to make sure the measurements where correct too. It truly is a miracle I have any hair left on my head after pulling out locks at a time. The cookies, cakes, puff pastry N.E.V.E.R came out as expected, they were either taste less, undercooked or could be used at building material (hard as a brick). When I was a kid baking was fun, mom and I would bake “boller” or something easy and even if it wasn’t the prettiest sweet rolls in town- it was still pretty sweet because again I wasn’t looking for perfection-  I enjoyed the warm soft cardamom flavored buns with hot cocoa....and whip cream.
I am also finding this now as I have started to paint. I am petrified of screwing up- making the ugliest marks on my canvas- even starting a canvas I feel as if I need a good shot of whiskey or two.
What is with this???
 It’s a white cloth stretched over a wood frame and I am too scared to touch it with paint in fear of not being good enough- so I either verbally beat myself up or I walk away with my heading low 
-from something that is supposed to be fun and enlightening not to mention creative!

 " Thank you perfection for draining all that is good in my life – creativity."

 So I gave up!
- I can’t win.
Perfection is simply unattainable.

  As I am knitting a red & pink sweater-  you know, these colors “don’t go together” there is really no pattern to this sweater so I am just having fun, though a mindless easy knit- it is giving me pleasure to sit and knit listening to music or talking with my kids instead of counting stiches and tensing up for the probability of a crappy end result.

Baking – even though I have a few good recipes I found a fabby lemon pound cake ( box cake)  Krusteaz, takes 5 min. and we all have something wonderfully lemony and yummy to enjoy with our tea.
I don’t really care anymore- I make the cakes that I know and bake well or the simple cookies-
Not here to impress any one and man, it’s such a relief.
My kids compliment me on the baked goods and that’s all that matter anyway- weather it’s from scratch or a box.

Now the painting- well that’s tough- I see it and myself as a work in progress…baby steps. Lots color exploration and marks what will become of it, I don’t know – challenge is good.

I try to ease up and let myself go…slow and steady wins the race.

I will get off my soap box now, thank you for reading.
May you all enjoy a most beautiful creative day as you see it.
You see, when weaving a blanket, an Indian woman leaves a flaw in the weaving of that blanket to let the soul out.
~Martha Graham





Red and Pink don't go together

Red and Pink don’t go together.

 That’s what I have been told since I could dress myself.
No matter what crazy outfit I put together, mainly to delight other folks with my fashion sense and style.
My mamma always told me in Swedish “Red and pink don’t go together
Who made these rules?

 They happen to be my favorite colors why not put them together and get a double color blast?
Why couldn’t she see how beautifully red and pink paired together?

Have you ever noticed how lovely parrot tulips are, if you are unfamiliar with them, these are the larger of the tulips that have the delicate frilly petal edges…very parrot-esque, my favorite, the red and pink ones…that is, the combination of the hot red and the soft pink …swoon.

My husband kindly gifts me these lovelies each time they are in season.

Valentines day happens to be one of my favorite holidays- mainly because we have an opportunity to celebrate love.

 …and its colorful people!

That’s’ right, red and pink together in hearts, flowers and beautiful color wrapped chocolate.  Strolling thru a Hallmark store and seeing all the pretty displays of red and pink heart décor and the brightly colored cards, especially in the dark of winter Montana, uplifting.

Makes me feel like a kid again, remember those cute little homemade cards and the themed little cards that you would attach a little sweet and give your little friends in school? I loved that.

Why is it ok for a card to be red and pink?

 As a grown up my two favorite cord jeans are actually a pair of red and a pink pair - usually worn with a long sleeved t-shirt in opposing color-(channeling my 11-year-old)

 I know…I’m quite the rebel, sorry mamma.
Even my kids give me grief. Really mom?
I have even pushed it so far that I actually dyed these beautiful skeins from a local sheep farmer in the NW red and pink. Knitting a simple straight forward sweater intended for Valentines but didn’t make it quite in time, the color combination sure makes me happy.

Maybe with all this “wrongness” one can piece out one’s own personality and uniqueness, that following tradition and rules don’t always work…maybe seeing things from a different view or perspective pushes us to open our heart a little more? Being creative and not like sheep in a flock accepting that there is beauty in everything especially in individuality.

It’s all how we see things.

I heard that red and pink don’t go together.

But see…. everyone got me all wrong- all the time it was 
pink and red!


Winter sunshine

It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake,
the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam.
This crisp winter air is full of it.
~John Burroughs, "Winter Sunshine"

Wishing you all a Happy Valentines day!



 In Montana there are many things to explore, some are seasonal because of weather conditions-  quick example is "Going to the sun road" in Glacier it closes during winter at Avalanche- if you want to got to the top - you're hiking it or skiing most likely because the snow pack is unreal. Hence the summer months are a better time to explore.
This beach is very special to us because is open seasonally as it becomes protective bird sanctuary, when the weather is at it's best, open only till March for the public- this, the north end of Flathead lake. For someone that grew up near the ocean, Oslo and then Coronado I miss the ocean and the salty air. Jumping in the ocean waves, watching sandpipers skittering about the shore, hot sunshine on my shoulders, sea shell picker upper, sand castle builder... my middle name, mermaid.
~I love the beach.

My father an avid sailor would "coerce" me to crew on his sailboat during the weekends...as a teen I hated it. Dad loved it- he felt as if he was flying, for me it was hard work and exhausting.
" Saga" his 52 ft Swan sailboat, was one that took us on many adventures from San Francisco to Coronado, sailing around the Coronado islands outside Mexico with flyfish flying over the bow, deep dark blue waters, seals sunning on the buoys. Vacations were spent sailing in British and U.S Virgin Islands. I felt my first baby's "kick" sailing in the San Juan islands on the coast of Washington.
I miss my dad, and I miss sailing with him.

Though Flathead lake ends and begins unlike any ocean, the water reminds me of him.
No salty air but sand, non the less- as the surrounding lakes have beautiful rocks, here there is sand, add a beautiful blue bird day and sun warming high in the sky, you just can't beat that... Montucky in winter.
 We brought Lily and her Christmas present -Wolfie. Off leash- they went from zero to 100 mph with miles of beach to run, explore and skid on ice. In the morning the little frozen puddles in the sand are fun to slide across- melt into clear puddles in late afternoon. A little girl ice skating on the beach on a frozen puddle, unusual... yet clever, her dad watching, sitting on a log with their little dog dancing all around.
This beach is a perennial favorite of ours- a true feeling of Big Sky country with the blue skies, Swan mountains white capped and rugged backdrop, the calm lake that stretches forever into the distance. A remedy for anything that ails you- this beach on the right day will rejuvenate you and lift your spirits.
Returning home I looked at my husband and said; you know for the first time, in a long time, I'm really happy. My soul feels deeply happy.

It's been 2 years since dad died it's been hard to come to peace with it all.
He was like the ocean to me- never ending.
Though I have let go, tears have become smiles as he comes to mind. As I walk on the beach and I find him- in my thoughts...somewhere out there he must be sailing amongst the stars.

Dad has the sea- I have my mountains, we meet in the middle somewhere on the beach.


Natures art

~ open your heart to natures art ~